Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html feel the steel quills rattle and quiver on her back as her tail coiled around behind her, barbed end twitching. Her talons scraped the floor, black and silver; her greenish hide wept tears of blood. From her throat, the silvery laughter of a child, under eyes gone yellow corner to corner…The demon I am is very female . She strained to rise, hold the image, the sound, the thought. It shimmered, tottered like a tower built too high, and collapsed as she did, face in her hands, shaking.How long did I hold it? A breath? Maybe two? I have to learn to sustain it longer . Megan blinked back tears of pain. But the Invincible, the Imperturbable, was leaning back on his arms, his eyes showing white all around. "That was… that was…" He took a deep breath, shook his head hard, curls dancing. "Fabulous!" Shkai'ra gave a laugh, half shudder. "She tried it out onme once. I woke up, stretched, turned over to kiss her good morning and… that…thing was on the pillow beside me. I swear, I didn't touch the ground until I was ten meters out of the tent, running bare-ass into a rainstorm with the horses running in front of me—and I wascatching up ." "How long could you make it last," Chevenga said, eyes glearning, "in ideal conditions?" "About two very slow breaths, perhaps a count of twenty, especially if the image is less complex," Megan swallowed a couple of times and controlled her shaking hands, feeling pale.Don't throw up . Her vision was greying.Don't pass out . "Not that a moment of that couldn't do wonders, in the dark, with people already nervous… Megan, are you all right?" Megan used the Yeoli gesture so she wouldn't have to nod, felt Shkai'ra's arm around her shoulders. "Yes. Just don't ask me to run any broken-field races. It costs, that's all. Like anything worth doing." The headache was there, but she expected that. "Yes." His smile flashed, approving. "Maybe you should lie down for a bit, just rest. You needn't demonstrate more." She stayed sitting. "Thosenails of yours… how did you come by them?" How does he know it isn't just silver paint? It hadn't been mentioned in the truth-drugging. Then she remembered: hismanrauq , the sense for weapons. "They're steel: I had them transmuted, by a fellow Zak. So I'd never be unarmed, you see. Not without price: I have to drink a fish-guttedbig cup of fish-oil every day to keep me healthy." "Tell me: how much are you two asking?" Ah. The magic words. Megan opened her mouth to charge him all the market would bear, and heard herself say, "I really don't care. The standard will do."Fik the money, it's not important . The merchant in her screeched. "As long as I get a chance to find my son." Shkai'ra stared at her in mock surprise, winked as Megan gave her a corner-of-the-eye glare. "It's for him you are in it," Chevenga said. "And you've got money elsewhere." Neither of these were questions. "I understand." His thinking look, that she could already recognize, came, with the slight cocking of the head. "You said your son was in the City Itself?" "Dah." "What does he look like? I used to live there, I might have seen him. Do you know who he'd be with?"
Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html "I used to live there," he says, as if he just moved in because he preferred the climate. "He'd be nine, almost ten, eyes like mine, pale blond hair, though that might have darkened—more likely shaved, as a slave.Aitzas family Temonen. Their estate is on Fidelity Street, which is in the south end of the noble quarter, near the Fountain of Infinity." "Temonen." He studied her eyes. "Temonen. What was the lord's first name?" "Nuninibas." "Nuninibas Temonen, yes. I got invited to his parties, but never went, though I had a friend who did." He was wearing an ebony arm-ring on his right arm; now he absently touched it with one tender finger. "The family's prospering; they were notorious parties. Which means at least they won't have sold him off to pay debts." Megan closed her eyes for a second, thinking of how long it had taken to get all her information by proxy. "I'm sorry," he said gently. "I wish I could tell you more. If they have sold him, you can track him starting from there. It may also be that Nuninibas will see the writing on the wall and get his household out before we even arrive."Before we arrive, not if , she thought.He'scertain of himself as a Ryadn; that's why the rest of the army is . "Even so there are ways to track him. I'll lend you help, if it comes to that." So many mercenary employers say farewell and to Halya with you the moment the fight's over , she thought,your problem if you didn't get what you came for. No wonder people are loyal to him . Then:or else he's trying to get more out of us with promises . "Well. On to your bigger half." Shkai'ra had been watching, cat-smiling, working her fingers and wrists; she'd let the loose sleeves of her coat fall back, to show the tendons rippling in her forearms. "My part is a little more difficult to demonstrate," she said. "Leading cavalry is what I was raised to do. I had five thousand lances under me in the Minztan War, before I was exiled and outlawed in Stonefort." She smiled reminiscently. "We won, too. Hmmm. You're getting a lot of odds-and-sods without unit organization? I've fought in a lot of mercenary armies, some of which had as much discipline to start with as a pack of jackals around a dead sheep. As to personal skills—" A damselfly had been flitting around the lantern; Fishhook made a tenative snap at it from Chevenga's shoulder, and the insect darted for the door. Shkai'ra, resting her hands on her thighs, let it zip past her ear before she moved. Rising, drawing, the saber moving in a blurring slash that left a dazzling streak of silver in the air, the ripping-silk sound of it parting mingling with the slighthuff of her breath. Turning in the same motion, kneeling again, the saber sheathed with asnap while the severed body of the damselfly was still fluttering toward the earth, not two heartbeats from her hand's first motion toward swordhilt. "Good, very good," he said, with the same smile, but evenly. "I want to see what you can do against another warrior, though, and what you and that beast of yours can do together. That'll have to wait till morning, early, before we move out."So much for enough sleep , Megan grumbled inwardly. "We can haggle now—I'm willing to risk a guess—or after that, whichever you prefer. You want to know what standard joiner's rate is, these days? Board, and an equal share of the spoils. We don't even have to equip them, and theystill join in droves…" "But what you have, I'd never take for so little. Not asking as much of you as I plan to. Here's my offer: for Megan, board, mercenary's share of spoils, and thirtyankaryel a month; for Shkai'ra, board, mount-board— you understand providing Hotblood's keep is going to be difficult, since I understand he eats horse and human meat—and twentyankaryel a month, raised commensurate with promotion."
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Shadow's Son by Shirley Meier, S.M. Stirling and Karen Wehrstein ...

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